For the Love of Chinese Food
by Eliza Darling
Summary: Apparently Chinese food made America extremely horny... not that China minded. America/China PWP, hints of past America/Japan.


**Hello all! This is my first _completed_ Hetalia fanfic. I've been so busy lately I haven't had time for writing... and I still shouldn't be. **

**Anyways, I love America/China. It's not my OTP, but it's just so damn adorable.**

**Fail PWP is fail.**

**Warnings: First lemon in a LONG time, first Hetalia fic, possible OOC-ness?**

**Pairing:**** America/China, hints at America/Japan**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Hetalia. If I did, each episode would be of America and Japan going at it the entire five minutes.**

"For the Love of Chinese Food"

China frowned upon spontaneous visits. He didn't exactly loathe them, per se, but he appreciated when a person had the decency to al least _warn_ him they would see him later.

One could only imagine his surprise when China found America on the other side of his hotel room door. China was ready to rest for the night in preparation for his early flight back home the following morning, but knowing America, that rest was delayed for another few hours. Though China was drowsing off during the world meeting earlier, he felt a very large urge to slam his door in the young nation's face just to at least have a few peaceful hours of sleep.

It wasn't that China resented America. On the contrary, America was one if China's major economical partners—the two were very dependent on each other. And China had always been fascinated with western nations, with their light hair and colorful eyes, though he never cared to admit it. However, at the moment, America seemed to be intruding on China's personal space. It was bad enough China was disheveled in preparation for bed after a recent shower (wet, stringy, loose hair; shiny skin; totally not authentic "Chinese" robe that barely reached his knees England had given him as a gag gift last year, complete with a bright red dye, gold trimmings, and a tacky dragon design on the back).

China opened the door a crack. "Yes, aru?" he asked the young nation, who was clad in casual jeans, sneakers, t-shirt, and open dress shirt.

"Yo." America gave China a large wave with an equally large grin. "You busy?"

"Not particularly, aru," China replied, raising an eyebrow. Just what was America getting at? "What do you need?"

"I'm hungry," said America, getting straight to his point. "And since we're in England, it's kind of hard to find some good cuisine. I was just wondering, you know, if you could cook me something?"

China sighed. "You're hopeless, aru," he scolded, but his tone was soft. He opened the door wider. "I'll see what I can do."

America happily walked into the older nation's room. "Thanks!" he exclaimed. "You're amazing. I've been craving some authentic Chinese since last week."

China smiled. He loved America's youthful attitude, wondering if there was ever a time he was like that, so brazen and happy. At over four thousand years of age, China was very well aware that he and his fellow nations could never age physically, but each nation's eyes told a different story.

Take America, for example. The young nation's eyes may have been hidden behind rectangular spectacles, but they told stories of war and pillage, of youth and hopefulness. China was sure his own eyes truly showed he was an aged, mature soul, so opposite from the nation that was making himself at home in the miniature kitchen in China's suite.

Sure, America's company would keep him awake for a few more hours, but right now, China didn't mind so much.

* * *

America watched as China prepared an authentic Chinese meal for the both of them. As a hero, America needed to have five square meals a day that were full of "protein" if he wanted to keep his strength up. Sure, hamburgers were the most amazing source of food on _Earth_ (but in America's mind, _Earth_ would be, well, _America_), but sometimes he needed something different.

China's shoulder blades flexed and contracted through the thin fabric of his red robe as he fried noodles in a pan. With such long hair, America could mistake the older nation for a girl, like he did often with Japan. Such fluid motion could most definitely not be that of a man, America thought as China wiped his forehead with his arm, slick from perspiration.

Smiling, America walked up to the older nation, placing his hands on slender hips. His chin rested on the soft material of the crimson robe, his lips barely brushing the outer shell of China's ear. "How's it coming along?" he asked, his voice softening in tone.

He noticed China tense and shiver slightly under America's touch. "It's ready, aru," he replied, turning off the stove.

America smirked. "Awesome. Can we eat in the bedroom?" he requested. "I wanna watch some TV."

Rolling his eyes, China turned his head toward America's, their lips mere centimeters from each other. "Sure, aru."

* * *

Like British food, China could tell America was strongly dissatisfied with British television programs as well. At this hour, the limited hotel channels were broadcasting reruns of _Monty Python_ and _The Office_.

"Damn. I _hate_ British humor," America scowled, digging greedily into the noodles China prepared. "It makes no sense."

"As opposed to American humor, which seems to revolve around lame one-liners and racial stereotypes?" China retorted smugly, daintily picking at his own bowl of noodles. "To me, _that_ doesn't make any sense, aru."

America slit his blue eyes. "Touché," he replied in a murmur.

China giggled. "I am only teasing, aru."

"O-oh." America began to blush, which China had to admit, was extremely adorable. "Ahem. This is great food. Thanks," he said, changing the subject.

"You're welcome, aru." China bowed his head slightly. He had to admit; he was beginning to warm up to America's company, though before he was sure the younger country would be a nuisance. Maybe a little more than he'd like to exclaim out loud.

Sure, the young nation was quite handsome, with his youthful, bright eyes and his muscular build, but China blushed at the thought of admitting to America that he was attractive. China had had many beautiful partners in the past, both male and female, but none as young or as outgoing as America.

The young nation placed his bowl on the nightstand beside China's bed, done with his meal. He turned to his elder casually. "You're a really great cook, you know," he commented.

China blushed slightly. "_X-xiexie_," he replied, looking down at his half-eaten bowl of noodles.

America scooted closer to his older friend on the large bed. "Dunno what that means," he admitted, "but I'm gonna assume it's, 'I totally know, dude.'" And with that, America leaned over and pressed his lips against China's. The Asian nation almost dropped his bowl in shock, but most definitely not resentment.

* * *

_China's lips are hella soft,_ America thought as he kissed the older nation. For such a narcissistic country, America couldn't help but find his elder very attractive, with his silky long hair and deep, golden-brown eyes. Eastern nations were so intimidating, but America had befriended them, whether through business (Hong Kong) or sex (Japan, who America found was _very_ kinky, with his hentai and all…). With China, he wanted both.

Slowly, China responded to the kiss, lips tentatively moving against America's. He set his bowl aside, bringing his hands to the other nation's shoulders.

America pulled away, keeping a small distance between them. "I'm sorry," he apologized, not sounding sorry at all. "I didn't know what came over me."

China's face flushed, which America found charming. "It's okay, aru," he whispered, his arms absently wrapping themselves around America's neck. "It just… seems _right_."

Monty Python cracked a joke on the television, totally ruining the moment.

Scowling, America grabbed the remote and snapped the TV off before crashing his lips to China's again. When his tongue asked for permission to enter, China welcomed it. Their kissing became feverish and passionate soon after, lips, teeth, and tongues exploring unknown territory.

* * *

Every fiber of China's being begged for more of America's touch as the younger nation moved his lips along China's jaw and against his neck, creating aggressive, red marks over porcelain skin. China gasped, his arms holding America against him intimately. _Shen_, he needed this. He hadn't had a proper sexual release in the _longest_ time.

America nipped at China's exposed collarbone, his hands undoing the knot of his robe. China threw his head back and moaned, keeping America pressed against him as the younger nation pulled apart the knockoff robe, smirking as he noticed his elder was wearing nothing underneath.

"So eager, darling," America whispered, hot breath tickling China's ear. _That voice…_ It was so damn sexy it made China groan in anticipation. "Patience. If there's one thing your brother taught me, it was foreplay."

"J-Japan?" China eked out, but America ignored him, resuming his previous position at China's collarbone, silencing all of China's thoughts.

As America kissed a trail down China's torso, the elder nation moaned and writhed, grabbing at any palpable object to keep him somewhat sane. His chest heaved underneath America's lips; his hips bucked, begging for more of the younger nation's touch.

America's hands ran up China's flat, pale stomach slowly, his fingers trailing across China's skin like streams of water. The elder hissed and moaned, reaching his arms back to grasp at the bed's headboard. The skilled hands trickled against China's already hardened pink nubs, causing China to moan America's name in pleasure.

"_Mmm_… keep doing that," America moaned, the noticeable bulge in his jeans rubbing against China's bare thigh. America's head dipped down, his tongue creating patterns of saliva around the Asian nation's stomach at a disturbingly slow pace.

"_Ah… merica_, aru," China gasped as America's hands moved up and down the elder's thighs sensually. His tongue was still tracing slow, erotic patterns around China's belly, causing China to buck his hips in anticipation of what was inevitable.

"Do you have any lube?" America pulled back and grabbed China's right ankle, kissing up the Asian nation's leg.

Panting, China shook his head. He didn't know he'd be engaging in any sexual activity during the trip.

With an indifferent face, America shrugged and presented three fingers to China's mouth. "Suck," he ordered, though not in a demanding manner. Without hesitation, China gladly accepted America's fingers and began working his tongue over them, causing America to let out a low, sexy groan.

Through half-lidded eyes, China observed the young nation, who was trying his best to sloppily kiss his way up China's right leg. He was still completely clothed in his casual jeans and rolled up dress shirt, but China didn't care. He didn't care about how ridiculous he probably looked; his hair unkempt; his robe open; and his legs spread, eager for the younger nation to take him. All he wanted was the major sexual release he would soon receive.

America's fingers left China's mouth with a small _'pop!'_ as he kissed up China's inner right thigh, causing China to moan. His mouth was so hot, so desperately sexy as he worked his way to China's straining erection.

America's now-wet fingers brushed against China's entrance, an easy enough find as China bucked his hips higher and higher on America's lap. The first finger was nothing more than an uncomfortable intrusion; one China hadn't felt in a long time. He bit his lip as America's mouth continued its upward trail, reaching its destination. America gave China's erection a slow, long lick on the underside before working his mouth over the tip, his second finger sliding in with the first.

China's moans and gasps grew louder with each passing second, trying to restrain himself from bucking into America's mouth. America sure as hell knew what he was doing, and at the moment, China didn't care that this very same mouth had worked over Japan as well, or that the third finger was added, all three scissoring his inside walls.

Without warning, America began to deep throat China, his tongue knowing exactly where to work. China, unable to restrain himself, bucked his hips in time to how America's fingers were working inside him. Sex hadn't been _this_ pleasurable in a long time.

America's finger's brushed against China's prostate, causing the elder nation to see white. Instantly, everything became ten times more pleasurable. China wrapped his left leg around America's waist and his right above the older nation's shoulder, giving America a better angle to deep throat and finger him. _God_, he was amazing. _God, God, God_. China's moans were on the verge of becoming screams. Never had anything felt so good in his four thousand years. It was almost as if he were a virgin nation again.

China whimpered as America's mouth and fingers drew away from his vital regions, but regained some of him composure knowing something much better would replace the absence. He pulled America in for a hungry kiss, his arms wrapping around the youthful nation's sturdy neck.

"I think you're ready," America joked against China's lips. He took a fistful of China's hair in his left hand, fingers brushing gingerly through the silky black strands.

China's golden eyes met America's cobalt ones. _Centuries_ of time spanned between their ages, and here they were, about to merge, like puzzle pieces fitting together. America, China could tell, was thinking the exact same thing as the western nation reached down to unzip his jeans and free his straining erection, his eyes never looking away from the elder's.

America hoisted China's left leg around his slender waist higher, creating a better angle for the two nations to experience the maximum amount of pleasure. China silently accepted this, smiling along with America as he felt the younger nation's tip at his entrance.

As he entered China, America pressed his lips to the older nation, who was trembling as the large, foreign object began to penetrate his insides. China kissed America back reassuringly; telling the younger nation it was okay to continue. He wanted this, and the pleasure would overthrow the ache, he knew all too well.

"You're so tight," America moaned as he buried himself deep within China. With a shaky cry, China allowed a few tears to roll down his cheeks, unable to control the pain that coursed through his body. His arms tightened around America's neck, pulling at the strands of blonde hair behind the young nation's ears.

Panting, America's eyebrows creased upward in a concerned matter for the eastern nation. He kissed the salty tears away sloppily, whispering comforting terms of endearment (mostly along the lines of "baby," "angel," and "love"—all _girls'_ pet names, but at the moment, China was grateful America was so concerned) into China's ear.

"I-I'm fine, aru," China reassured, trying to smile. "Just… give me a second to adjust." God, had it been _that_ long since he'd had sex?

When China's breathing finally calmed, America kissed him again, beginning to thrust in and out of the elder nation. The pace was dangerously slow; China could tell America was holding back.

China pulled America's head against his neck. "_Q-qing_," he whispered. "So not withdraw, aru. Do not hold back, _wo de ai_, aru."

America hesitated, but China could feel him nod against his shoulder. He continued to thrust slowly, but at a slightly faster rate, causing China to gasp and moan loudly. America's lips attached themselves to China's neck, his mouth moving against the smooth skin in time to his thrusts.

China pulled America's body closer to him, wanting the younger nation to hit that spot again. "_Q-qing_, faster…" he panted. "Touch me, aru."

The western nation kissed his way up to China's lips as his stealthy right hand began to work expertly at the elder's aching erection. China moaned loudly, which he could tell had a very sensual effect on America.

When America thrust against China's prostate again, the elder's moans grew much louder, reverberating off the hotel room's walls. China was sure the other nations could hear them, but he didn't care. Let them know he was America's.

China glanced up at America, who was on the verge of losing control. His thrusts were hot and rapid, his head was thrown back, his eyes were shut tightly, his teeth bit his bottom lip so hard China was _sure_ he drew blood, his hands clutching China's left thigh and stiff cock. Just the sight of the younger nation drove China off the edge.

With a few more thrusts, China came, crying America's name in an intense, lusty moan. His bangs stuck to his forehead in, China was sure, an unattractive manner; his cheap knockoff robe clung to his skin, soaked in sweat. So messy… but he was too spent to care.

America came soon after, his seed quickly filling the elder nation. He collapsed beside China, equally as tired as he tried to catch his breath.

China smiled and, with the little strength he had, flung the sweat-soaked knockoff robe to some corner of the room. He rolled over to face America, not caring that he was fully exposed to the clothed nation.

The smile faded. "_Aiyaa!_" he cried. "Your shirt, aru! I ruined it… shit."

America released a breathy laugh and pulled at the white tee underneath the dress shirt. "Ah, that's okay," he replied. "It's just a t-shirt."

China straightened America's glasses and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. "You should still wash it, aru," he advised.

America laughed again, this time more heartily. "God… I'm beat," he complained. "Mind if I sleep with you tonight?"

"_Aiyaa!_" China exclaimed, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes. "You really _are_ hopeless, aru."

By the time he finished his sentence, America had already flung his clothes to who-knows-where. "I know," the younger nation replied cockily, making himself at home under the sheets. "But that's why you can't get enough of me."

Sighing, China joined America under the sheets and snuggled up next to the western nation. "Bah. I wish that weren't true, aru."

America chuckled and kissed the top of China's head before he began to doze off. China smiled and entangled his limbs with his new lover, sleeping peacefully for the rest of the night.

**Chinese** **Translations (correct me if I'm wrong):**

**_Xiexie_-Thank you**

_**Qing**_**-Please**

_**Wo de ai**_**-My love**

**... and fail ending is fail. BLARGH. Someone tell me if my characterization is okay, because there is NO plot behind this. Praise, critique... hell, at this point, I'm fine with flames (just keep in mind you'll either get bitch slapped or ignored). Maybe I'll post something better when I love the couple more. XD**

**~Maggie**


End file.
